On the Attainment of Knowledge
An essay on Socrates’ theory of innate ideas to acquire knowledge and Descartes’ approach of radical skepticism to secure proper instances of knowledge. Submitted for PHIL 2103 on October 4, 2020.
As both the instrument and the repository of knowledge, the human mind, as it appears, is ever malleable. Indeed, an eloquent speech, a well-constructed discourse, or an extraordinary experience may persuade one to completely subvert or neglect a belief they have once staunchly abided by. While such flexibility is perhaps profitable in social affairs, it poses an earnest concern for whether one’s convictions are ever true knowledge or mere passing opinions. Ancient philosopher Socrates as depicted by Plato as well as modern philosopher Rene Descartes both undertake an enquiry into this matter, albeit from different standpoints. In what follows, I will first provide a brief account of Socrates’ theory of innate ideas to acquire knowledge as presented in Plato’s Meno. Then, I will present Descartes’ approach of radical skepticism to secure proper instances of knowledge along with his findings using this methodology in his Meditations on First Philosophy.
In Plato’s Meno, in response to Socrates’ invitation to together discover the essence of virtue, which Socrates admits he has yet to know, Meno contends that one cannot search for what they know, for there is no need to search for what they already know, nor can they search for what they do not know, because they do not know what to look for (80:c-e). To challenge this paradox, Socrates puts forth an epistemological theory of recollection, which grounds itself upon the supposition that “the human soul is immortal,” as instructed by “wise … priests and priestesses” (80:e). Socrates argues that, because our soul is immortal, has “been born often, and has seen all things,” it has learned in our previous lives all there ever is to learn (81:a-c). Socrates hence concludes the ability of our soul to recollect its dormant knowledge of past lives upon a brave and persistent search is “in no way surprising” (81:d).
Accordingly, Socrates declares learning not as a process of acquiring new, external knowledge, but of recollecting knowledge once forgotten but which has always been present in our soul, including that of the essences of things (81:d). That is, knowledge of the essences is not acquired through the senses or through authorities of law or institution, but through recollection (81:c). In fact, Socrates even goes as far as to say that “there is no teaching but recollection” (82:a). However, Socrates does not propose that what we recollect from our soul initially is necessarily knowledge. Indeed, one of Meno’s “attendants” whom Socrates questions errs when confronted with more complex, unfamiliar geometric relations (82:b, 82:a-b).
Instead, Socrates considers what we recollect as instances of true opinions which, upon repeated reflection and questioning, are capable of conversion to proper instances of knowledge (85:c). That is, in order to truly know something, one must make sense of it through their own active inquiry, sometimes guided with innate ideas gained from previous lives. To Socrates, true opinions differ from knowledge in that the former are “not willing to remain long,” that they are transient, whereas the latter “remain in place,” or tethered to our eternal soul (97:e-98:a). To convert true opinions to knowledge, therefore, requires one to “tie them down by [giving] an account of the reason why” (98:a). In other words, according to Socrates, if one can make sense of something by consistently explaining it with logical reasoning as a result of their own active and repeated reflection, they truly know that subject.
Approximately two millenniums later, French philosopher Rene Descartes also took on the task to establish instances of true knowledge that are “stable and likely to last” (I:17). In order to achieve this, Descartes concludes that it is necessary to “withhold” assent from, or to doubt, all his previous beliefs, because these beliefs have been “acquired either from the senses and through the senses” which are deceitful (I:18, 22). To illustrate the senses’ deception, Descartes first emphasizes how our senses err with respect to objects “which are very small or in the distance” (I:18). He then proposes the dreaming argument, which highlights how regularly one undergoes the same experiences while asleep as one does awake and is convinced that they are awake when they are in fact asleep (I:19). Our senses’ inability to differentiate between dream and reality, at this point of the Meditations, is hence another manifestation of their deception. Nonetheless, Descartes speculates that some “simpler and more universal things,” such as arithmetic and geometry, contain something “certain and indubitable,” and that one should naturally come to such “transparent truths” which no longer invite any suspicion of falsity (I:20).
However, Descartes distresses that the “omnipotent God” who he firmly believes has created him may have devised a scheme such that all these transparent truths are mere appearances existing only in his mind and not externally in and of themselves; so yet another basis for doubt seems to arise (I:21). And should one deny the existence of God, Descartes argues, they are greeted with an even more vigorous demand for doubt, for “deception and error seem to be imperfections,” and a being not created by God is less perfect than one created by him, so the former being is more prone to error and deceit (I:21). After considering the preceding instances in which he has or may have been deceived by the senses, Descartes is compelled to admit that all and every one of his former beliefs is subject to doubt (I:21). Descartes employs such an extensive form of skepticism in order to recognize “something certain,” or to certainly recognize that “there is no certainty” (I:24). True and certain knowledge, which by definition cannot be false, cannot stem from or be influenced by the senses, which deceive him to conclude falsely. Therefore, anything that survives this heightened scrutiny leaves no room for further doubt and is thereby true and certain knowledge (Synopsis:12).
Subsequently, in search of something “certain and unshakeable,” Descartes considers wholly false “anything which admits of the slightest doubt,” and therefore convinces himself that “absolutely nothing” in the world, including the sky, the earth, minds, and bodies, exists (II:24). Despite such an extreme screening, Descartes submits that one thing still remains, namely the cogito that “I am, I exist,” and this proposition is necessarily true so long as “I” am still thinking (II:24). That is, my thought is inseparable from me, and I am “[a] thing that thinks … A thing that doubts, understands, affirms, denies, is willing, is unwilling, and also imagines and has sensory perceptions” (II:27-28). For even if God were to put the thought of my existence into my mind, I, not God, may be the one who thinks that God is doing so. In that case, albeit devoid of a mind and a body, I am still “at least, something” (II:24). Simply put, the being that I am is not “so bound up with a body and with sense that I cannot exist without them” (II:25). In another case where a “malicious demon” is “deliberately and constantly deceiving me,” I still have to be something—I still have to exist—in order to be deceived (II:22, 24). In any case, “I” exist, and this Descartes knows with certainty (II:28, 34).
From this particular instance of certainty of his own existence, Descartes derives a general rule upon which we can procure certainty for other things: that whatever one perceives as “very clearly and distinctly is true” (III:35). In other words, when we encounter something which we understand so clearly and distinctly, we cannot but affirm that it is an instance of true knowledge (IV:59). However, this is not because we are forced by “any external force” to do so. Instead, we affirm due to “a great inclination in the will,” which in fact signifies that we have an even “freer” choice in this subject, because if I am so inclined toward affirmation, I must have clearly understood the “reasons of truth and goodness” of the thing in question (IV:58).
Descartes asserts that some things are clearly and distinctly understood by everyone, whereas other complex clear and distinct truths require a closer and more careful investigation (V:68). For instance, the obvious truth that the hypotenuse of a right triangle is opposite from the right angle is more “readily apparent” than the more complex truth of the Pythagorean theorem, which requires mathematical proofs (V:69). While truths that are not self-evident contain no less certainty than obvious ones, because our nature dictates that continual fixation of “mental vision” on the same thing is impossible, we depend on God to be certain of the non-obvious things that we have clearly and distinctly perceived to be true, even when we no longer attend to the proofs leading up to such conclusion (V:69-70).
God can assume this role of our guarantor of memory because our own existence depends on him, and because God is “no deceiver” (V:70). Our existence depends on God because “what is more perfect … cannot arise from what is less perfect,” and the fact that we are a thinking thing that has “some idea of God”—not a perfect idea, for that would in effect make us God—is a “very clear proof that God indeed exists” (III:41, 49-51). That is, Descartes sets forth the cosmological argument that only God’s existence could have caused the idea of perfection to exist in us. Descartes gives an additional ontological account of God’s existence that because one cannot think of God without godly predicates, namely that of existence and perfection, it follows that God in fact exists and is perfect (V:66-67). Moreover, God cannot be a deceiver because “all fraud and deception depend on some defect,” and God, who is “supremely perfect and infinite,” cannot suffer from any defect (III:41, 46). As such, Descartes determines that, so long as one is aware of “the true God,” whose existence guarantees that whatever clear and distinct conclusion tethered to one’s memory is true, it is possible to gain insight into “full and certain knowledge of countless matters,” or the essences of things, as opposed to acquiring mere “shifting and changeable opinions,” which results from one’s unawareness of the supreme being (V:70-71).
Through what seems to be a bleak skeptical exercise, Descartes in fact offers a rather optimistic outlook on our ability to achieve certainty and knowledge through our own faculties. Along with Socrates’ theory that knowledge is acquired through repeated reflection, Descartes’ Meditations enlivens and encourages us to discover knowledge for ourselves, to not conform or rely on conventional teachings, and to be keen on this search.